Voldemort
by imnotjkr
Summary: Voldemort needs no friends, no love. After all, he's special. My journey into Voldemort's mind.


**Voldemort**

I'm not lonely. I'm not. I don't need blood family. I don't need friends. I don't need love.

At the orphanage, they treated me like everyone else. Stupid muggles. I knew I was better. I was special. When the other kids picked on me, I could control things. I could make them pay for trying to put me down. My favourite was when I got two of the children to climb into this cave on a beach we were taken to. Absolutely petrified. If I concentrated really hard, I could make the rocks under their feet move. They begged me to take them down. To let them live. I had the power to kill them. And they knew it. That's why they begged for their lives. I had the power to steal their lives. I had the power to give them life. And I did. It was more than they deserved.

I used to collect little trophy's of my really spectacular ones. Like the time I got that idiot's bunny to hang itself from the ceiling. He was never rude to me again. And when I was alone in my room, I was not lonely. I was better than them. I didn't miss their company. Not even a little bit.

Sometimes, I think me and Harry Potter have a lot in common. Other than our tie in the prophecy that caused to be thrown from my body, that is. Old magic, magic I should not have forgotten. But when I possessed him, Merlin, I couldn't bear it. He just wanted to be put to rest with his godfather. And that should have made him weak. It really should have. But it made him so strong. It should have made him weak, like it made my mother weak.

When I was young, I heard the matrons talking about me. They said that my mother came ready to give birth and died within an hour afterwards. They said my father must have left her, and she died of a broken heart, for they could find nothing else wrong with her. I was named after my father, they said she'd insisted, and my middle name was Marvolo, after her father. One little girl teased me about it when we were younger. After I made all those snakes go in her bed, no one said anything about it again.

She was killed by love. It made her weak. When I later discovered she was a witch, I knew that she could have saved herself; she could have reached for the power. But love weakened her. One of the women I met on my travels put it best. "There is no good or evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it." But she was weak. She was a vampire who refused to help my quest because she believed herself in love with a muggle. He didn't even attend her funeral. Maybe that was because he was attending his own.

Dumbledore always says that love is the strongest thing in the world. That it makes you strong. But it's not true. My mother was made weak by love. When I go to the houses, mothers and fathers could escape through the back door and leave the little ones to fend for themselves. Or the ones where one of the couple is a muggle, the wizard could always leave the worthless little muggle, who can't fight back. But they never do. They wait and try to keep them safe. I never understood it. They never succeed. And they know that they won't. But they still stay, stay to try and save the ones that they 'love'. Love makes them weak. Love kills them.

Love is only an emotion. And emotions are better ignored, or twisted to fit your best purposes. They are to be exploited in others and covered in yourself. You can trust no one. They can all betray you. As I have made more and more horcruxes, there has been less and less complex emotion. There is only happiness and anger, now. Happiness is to be down-played, else you will be weakened by it – it is too close to love – but anger must be used to fuel yourself, not to help you make rash decisions.

Potter uses his emotions strongly; he doesn't understand that they aren't always going to help. They make his decisions rash; he doesn't see the big picture. It's because of that that he's going to lose. He'll put his life on the line, he doesn't understand that sometimes people have to be sacrificed in the name of war. I bet he's no good at chess.

I was always very good at chess. I never spent much time at it, but I always like the power it gave me. I chose which of the pawns in my hand died, and which of the pawns in my opponent's hand died too. I don't know why no one else seems to see it that way, after all, it is a very bloodthirsty game. People use it to make lots of war metaphors. I dislike that, because the piece that is the most vital, the king, isn't the strongest, the queen. And that shouldn't be the case. The more powerful you are, the more important you are.

I'm the most important wizard in the world. Because I'm the most powerful wizard in the world. Everyone says Dumbledore is the most powerful, but we both know that is not the case. After all, he cannot kill me, yet I can kill him. And therein lays my superiority. The now deceased Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He never understood that the trust he had in everyone, the unwavering belief he held in humanity, was going to be his undoing. He trusted the Hogwarts occupants too much. He gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. I trust no one.

I am not lonely. I have my family. The Death Eaters are my true family. I may avoid them mostly, but that is because they are not up to my level. I put most of my efforts into preventing my own demise. Death is admitting weakness. Death is giving up. Death makes you only human. I am more than human. I am better than human. I am better than them all.

After all, I'm special.

* * *

A/N: This is my journey into the messed up place that is Voldemort's mind. I hope it was not for nothing. Please review and tell me whether you liked it and what you would improve. How can I get better without constructive criticism (and by that I don't mean mindless insults, I mean actual constructive comments). 


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